


Reach and Flexibility

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Regency, Romance, Series, Slow Burn, pride and prejudice - Freeform, regency au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: In which I embark on some crazy Pride and Prejudice AU. God help me. I’m so sorry, Jane Austen.Lizzie Shepard meets two turians new to the neighborhood.





	1. Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single turian in possession of a good position in C-sec, must be in want of a wife. 

As Elizabeth Shepard descended the stairs to breakfast, she could overhear the sound of her parents, Hannah and Benjamin, discussing something over the soft clink of cutlery on plates. She stopped a moment, both to reflect on her mother’s stubborn insistent on family heirlooms brought from Earth to their provincial colony homeworld and to spy on their conversation. 

“Lizzie!” Caught once again. “Did you hear? Someone’s let Netherfield. They say he’s a Spectre, dear. Do you think he’s here to find a wife?” 

Unable to resist rolling her eyes, Shepard choked back every sarcastic reply that came to her quick tongue and settled on, “I don’t know, mother.” It had been a period of some months since she had left the Alliance military, labelled a hero and unceremoniously bundled back home for her actions on Akuze, and it had never felt quite so provincial as it did at that moment. 

“But think of your sister! Do you think we can arrange to meet him? They say his name is,” and here Mrs. Shepard paused, searching somewhere near the vicinity of copious top bun for the name, “Mr. Kryik. That’s it.” 

As of on cue, Jane Shepard descended the stairs, hand trailing down the railing, fingers almost painfully delicate, face lit by a stray beam of an alien sun that rendered her in luminescent in that moment. It was almost enough to make Lizzie hate her, if she didn’t love her sister so much, but when compared, she knew why her mother favored Jane. Chocolate hair, hazel eyes, a heart-shaped face as compared to the literal red-headed child of the family and a nose that had been broken and not set properly. If anyone deserved a husband, it was Jane. 

Mr. Shepard spoke from over a cup of coffee, finally growing on their little homeworld after too long spent with instant. “I met Mr. Kryik at the club the other day. A very polite young man. Reticent, but that’s turians for you.” Though he spoke casually, he didn’t look at his wife, exchanging a wink with Lizzie and Jane. “He said he was looking forward to meeting our family at the dance this evening. I made sure to mention the girls to him. All of them.” Jane, Lizzie, the twins, Mary. So many daughters- too many. More than any other sane colony would have allowed. 

A dance? Inwardly, Lizzie groaned, watching both her mother and elder sister perk up with enthusiasm. There were only a few thousand people in their community; social functions kept the group going, as well as encouraging potential liaisons to generate the next generation of colonist. It didn’t make the events any more bearable. 

“Girls. Go get dressed. Now.” Coming from Hannah Shepard, it was an order, not a request. 

**** 

This was misery. Stuffed into a dress, her hair pulled this way and that, Lizzie stood as straight as possible, wishing for the comfort of her old, familiar uniform. In her head, it hadn’t seemed like there were too many people in the colony, but with most of them stuffed into one large room, she felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sound of pulsing music far too loud. Her mother’s Mr. Kryik, whoever he may be, would be impossible to find through the press of bodies, and she had just resigned herself to finding a nice corner and hiding out there the rest of the evening when someone tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Elizabeth Shepard?” The turian that stood before her had kind eyes and a handsome red and black carapace, his clan markings standing out in stark white against his face. A little way behind him stood another of his kind, light gray with blue markings and a frown that didn’t seem to want to quit. He immediately set her hackles to raising, though she kept her expression carefully neutral and welcoming, curious as to what the famous Mr. Kryik might have to say to her. 

“I am she. Welcome to Meryton, Mr. Kryik.” She extended a hand, beating him to the punch, well aware that her mother would be horrified at how forward she was being. 

“A pleasure. I had something I wanted to discuss with you…” His voice trailed off, gaze somewhere over Lizzie’s left shoulder. She saw the blur of dark hair in the corner of her eye. Jane. Of course. 

“This is my sister, Jane Shepard.” Unlike Lizzie, Jane did nothing so gauche as extend a hand; she and Kryik simply stared at each other for an uncomfortably long period of silence, until Lizzie felt the need to clear her throat. “And who would your companion be?” 

Jolted awake, eyes widening as much as turian anatomy would allow, Kryik hastily said, “This is Garrus Vakarian, a friend of mine who is visiting. And please, call me Nihlus.” 

“Is he a Spectre like you?” Jane was apparently incapable of speaking herself, leaving Lizzie to try and drag the conversation forward. 

At that, the thus far silent Mr. Vakarian gave a short laugh, sound bitter. “Ah, no,” Nihlus said, shooting his friend a distinctly dirty look,” He’s a member of C-Sec. Our families go back generations.” The music abruptly changed in tempo, slowing down significantly, something instrumental over the speakers. No live music in Meryton tonight, but it sounded good enough to almost believe there was a quartet in the room. 

“May I ask you for this dance, Miss Shepard?” It was easy to see that Nihlus was speaking to Jane; they were still looking at each other, more bashful now. “Garrus, you should ask Elizabeth to dance. Doesn’t the light… er, look lovely on her hair?” The way Garrus’ eyes narrowed suggested anything but, yet he stiffly extended a hand to her.

“May I have this dance?” Every word came from his lips with a dripping reluctance, and when she took his hand, not wanting to be left in Jane’s shadow yet again, Elizabeth could feel how he engineered a careful distance between them. 

To say that their dance together didn’t go well was an understatement. Unlike Jane, Lizzie had no natural grace, stepping on the turian’s feet several times. She wasn’t sure if he could feel it, though she thought she saw him wince once or twice. The height difference was awkward as well, making her reach up to his waist, so small beneath her hands. His claws were heavy on her shoulders, and they didn’t move together at all, as if they were listening to two very different beats. Quite frankly, it was a relief when it was over. 

Jane and Nihlus were wholly absorbed in each other. With a stiff bow and mumbled ‘thank you’ to Garrus, Lizzie made her exit, gratefully taking in the night air, half hidden behind a hideous faux colonnade. Within a few minutes, she heard two now familiar voices conversing. 

“Do you not find Meryton refreshing, Garrus? So much less crowded than the Citadel. So… beautiful.” Nihlus, voice flush with affection. 

“You might, but you were dancing with the only tolerable woman on the whole planet.” A flush rose in Lizzie’s cheeks; absurdly, she thought of how her mother would chide her, saying that the pink clashed with her own fiery hair. Unable to hear anything further, or perhaps unwilling, she turned on her heels and rushed off. This whole evening had been a disaster, and she was loathe to stretch it any further. Only tolerable woman indeed! She might not be the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, but she was the Hero of Akuze, and she was damned if she would let this Garrus Vakarian slander her like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lizzie and Liara discuss Mr. Kryik, who comes by the house to make a startling statement. An invitation is presented. 
> 
> As always, apologies to Jane Austen.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! Your comments give me life. <3

Within a short walk of the family home (named Longbourn, after the relative that had so generously financed the Shepards to purchase the piece of land and the colony charter) lived an asari family with whom the Shepards were particularly intimate. They were unconventional, as most asari families were, yet Hannah Shepard found them to be good company and good conversation. They consisted of Matriarch Aethyta, who fled a more placid, typical lifestyle for something different, and her daughter Liara, who was a good friend of Lizzie Shepard’s. 

That Liara and Lizzie should meet to talk over the dance from a few nights before was absolutely necessary, and the morning brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate. 

Good natured and intellectually voracious, Liara had as little patience for such events as Lizzie herself had, and they laughed long and loud at how excited the other Shepard sisters had gotten before striking a considerably more somber tone, waiting until Mrs. Shepard had left the room to fling covert glances at each other. 

“Jane got along well with Mr. Kryik,” began Liara. 

Lizzie shook her head, though it was not so much in disagreement as a faint sense of disbelief. “Too well. He danced with you first though.” 

“Ah, but did he not tell you he had something to say to you? Yet Jane topped us all.” Liara was right, of course. Whatever their mysterious new Spectre neighbor had to say had been completely lost the minute he had seen the eldest Shepard sister, and from the way Jane had been mooning about the house, the feeling was all too mutual. This concerned Lizzie, obviously- they were modern women. Who fell in love at first sight without knowing a single thing about the opposite party? It was backwards. It was too much like what Hannah Shepard wanted. 

There was another subject Liara wanted to bring up, something she talked about without quite looking Lizzie in the eyes. “And what about that Mr. Vakarian? He was handsome.” 

There was little point in denying that, but Lizzie shook her head with vehemence now, showing that this time she was truly disavowing her friend’s words. “He’s far too proud to be tolerable. It’s those turians. They’re all like that. I have no doubt that Nihlus will be the same.” 

“I should get going,” Liara said uncomfortably, shifting in her seat. “I’ll be at another dig for the next week. You know you shouldn’t speak about turians so, Lizzie.” Unlike Mrs. Shepard, Liara’s mother gave her a degree of freedom that Lizzie could only envy. It had taken war to take her away from home, and it would probably take a second to do the same again. And unlike Lizzie, Liara saw the best in people, always acting far nicer than Lizzie herself would have. 

With a reluctant hug and a goodbye to her dearest friend, Lizzie settled in with a novel, legs curled underneath her in the family’s largest chair, finally getting into the sheer, Gothic horror of the lonely space station, inhabited by a single wan young gentleman and his beautiful young guest, before another knock disturbed her. Had Liara forgotten something? 

“Mr. Kryik.” Nihlus’ presence could not have surprised Lizzie more, though she collected herself admirably. “I presume you’re here to see Jane?” It would have been too soon, in her opinion, but she had to trust in the instincts of her older sister to welcome her own guests. 

“Ah, no.” The turian looked, if at all possible, faintly bashful and the whole situation reeked of an impropriety Lizzie found strangely liberating. Her raised eyebrow must have been enough of an invitation for him to continue, as he locked eyes with her and talked with an honesty that was almost endearing, enough for her to perhaps see a glimpse of what Jane had already seen so plainly. “I’ve come on behalf of the Spectres. We believe that you’d make a good candidate.” 

A Spectre- her? Lizzie almost laughed, but held her tongue. “I’m retired,” she finally said. Like it or not. Her mother had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t to return to the field. Settle for being the hero once. Besides, humans weren’t made Spectres. It simply wasn’t done. 

“We believe that a threat may be coming to the colony- the geth, and…” Whatever Nihlus would have said was silenced by the presence of Jane at the top of the stairs. They locked eyes, and it was as if Lizzie was no longer in the room. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Kryik.” Though Jane’s tone was carefully cool, it was difficult to avoid the heat in the air. Excusing herself with a whisper and a small, silent smile, Lizzie flung a message Liara’s way. 

‘Nihlus has stopped by again. Jane is being very cool. Finally playing smart.’

The message back was almost instant. ‘If she plays too cool, he will lose his interest and move on.’ Knowing what she did now, that Nihlus Kryik had not come to their small colony simply for a more quiet life, Lizzie bit her lip, spending the next hour or so trying to convince Liara that her sister knew what was best, and that if Jane and Nihlus truly liked each other, all would be fine. Sooner or later, she would have to reveal the truth to her sister, but hearing Jane’s laughter, she let them have their happiness for now. 

Jane’s bright, red-faced presence disturbed Lizzie from telling a particularly ribald joke about a pyjack to her friend. “Mr. Kryik has invited us to a small celebration at his house. There will be other families, of course, but he wishes to make Mr. Vakarian feel more welcome. Won’t that be wonderful?” There was little more that could be worse, in Lizzie’s mind, then spending another evening in the company of Garrus Vakarian, but saying so when her sister was so vibrantly alive at the prospect seemed wrong. “Mr. Kryik’s sisters will be there as well. He hopes that we might befriend each other.” That, at least, might prove interesting. Though Lizzie found turians to be too proud and still inherently distrusted them for the events of First Contact, the thought of making more friends close to her own age was a pleasant one. 

“I suppose I can accompany you.” Jane’s squeal, an uncharacteristic show of emotion, was enough to convince Lizzie that she had made the correct choice. She would go and put up with Mr. Vakarian, and she would plaster a smile across her face the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mr. Vakarian's feelings for Miss Shepard begin to get complicated.

Occupied as she was of late in observing Mr. Kryik’s attentions to her sister, Elizabeth Shepard was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of interest in the eyes of his friend, Mr. Vakarian. The party was milling, and it was difficult for her to keep track of individuals, resigning herself to trying to keep an eye on Jane and talking with Liara at the same time, stiff and uncomfortable in the dress that her mother had insisted she wear, Nihlus’ offer remaining firmly in the back of her mind the entire time.

Mr. Vakarian had first scarcely allowed Lizzie to be pretty; he looked at her without admiration at the dance; when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her green eyes, animated as they were by discussion of past battles. She had kept in shape even during her ostensible retirement, running in the early mornings, heaving her own body weight to and fro until she had a figure that even Garrus had to admit was both trim and pleasing to the eye. His observations went completely unnoticed for most of the evening, until a turn of his body, the light on his facial markings, revealed him to her.

“Liara, don’t look, but Mr. Vakarian is watching me. Why?”

Much to Lizzie’s consternation, Liara looked, entirely obvious about it, giving the startled turian a wink before turning back to her friend, trying to soothe ruffled feathers. “Only Mr. Vakarian himself could tell you.”

That seemed as much of an excuse as any, and brushing off Liara’s protests, Lizzie marched over to Garrus, looking him square in the eye. “Did you not think, Mr. Vakarian, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when our good friend Mr. Foster was asking me about the Battle of Akuze?” The battle of which she had been the sole survivor, as he would have no doubt found out by now.

A ponderous blink and a flick of his mandibles accompanied Garrus’ careful reply. “With great energy, certainly, but I should think it’s a subject you always warm to.”

Despite mounting annoyance, Lizzie kept her voice admirably calm. “You are so severe, Mr. Vakarian. Is that a turian trait?” She knew full well that it was, but that she was also falling back on ugly stereotypes. He even looked chastened, if just for a moment.

Liara sought an opening and found it, tugging on Lizzie’s sleeve to get her attention. “Colonel Foster has a few more questions about military history, if you don’t mind. I’m sure Mr. Vakarian can spare some time for you later.” Their verbal sparring, short as it was, had brought color to her cheeks, a pink that contrasted sharply with her red hair.

“We have a saying here, on our colony. It’s a _provincial_ one, of course,” and her breath lingered long on that word, “but one I find adequate. ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge.’ I shall keep mine for a more welcome audience.” She couldn’t resist a final jab, one as spirited as anything else she had said this evening, and then she was whisked away.

The evening quickly passed over to music and dancing. The youngest Shepard sister, Mary, was fairly proficient at piano, taking over the keys and happy to soak in the attention. Lizzie cooled her heels, huddling with Liara and discussing Prothean artifacts, rumors that there could be one on their own little colony homeworld, one that Lizzie dismissed with a snort but that Liara believed in.

“They really did miraculous things, the Protheans, and we still know so little.”

“But why here? What do we have here that would recommend them to our fair soil?”

“Well, we don’t know Lizzie. That’s the point!” It was likely they would have continued that way the entire evening had not a conversation between Mr. Vakarian and Mr. Foster drifted their way.

Drinking something strong enough to make her head pleasantly light, Lizzie was surprised to hear Mr. Foster beckoning her over, a scowling Garrus lurking near his shoulder, looking thoroughly put out, perhaps even embarrassed by the coming conversation. “You’re so light on your feet, Miss Lizzie,” Foster began, “that you surely wouldn’t begrudge the whims of an old man to see you dance again. Though our companion here dislikes all amusement, I’m sure he cannot have an objection to doing the same.” This time, Foster’s broad gesture took Garrus in as well, making him complicit in this… whatever this was. Unpleasantness.

“Mr. Vakarian is so polite. I, unfortunately, am not. I’ll have to pass this dance for now. I find my feet still pain me from our last sojourn across the floor.” Quite unexpectedly, her refusal seemed to relieve Garrus, rather than making him angry as she had planned, and Lizzie turned her head away with an arch expression, hurrying back to Liara.

The eldest Miss Kryik, meanwhile, had joined Garrus after overhearing the exchange, thoroughly amused. When she had met the Shepards the previous day, the Kryiks had gotten on well; they found Jane perfectly charming, though they kept their mouths shut tight against the matriarch of the family, and spoke little of Lizzie. “I can guess what you’re thinking about,” she teased Garrus with a familiarity born of years of acquaintance.

“Am I so open?” He was used to her, even faintly amused by her company.

“You’re thinking how intolerable it would be to spend many further evenings like this, in a crowded colony home, far from Palaven or the Citadel. This nothingness- the self-importance of all the people! Especially of the Shepards.” Her words dripped with venom, hidden behind a face pretty by turian standards, facial markings mirroring Nihlus’ but more distinctly feminine.

“Unfortunately, your conjecture is completely incorrect. I was thinking of the effect of intelligent eyes in a lively face, and how pretty they could make a woman.”

“Surely it’s not someone here. They’re all so very human, Garrus. I trust you wouldn’t share my brother’s tastes. Tell me who.”

“Miss Elizabeth Shepard,” he said, not without trepidation.

“Miss Shepard! And how long has this been going on? When should I congratulate you? Your mother-in-law will not lack for charm.” She tittered behind a clawed hand, searching out for the victim of her jibes, eyes settling on the enormous hat Mrs. Shepard wore and the width of her skirts.

“I have no intention of marrying the woman.” But the rest went uncommented on; it seemed as if Garrus was taking in Miss Kryik’s words, giving them due consideration. His relative composure reassured Nihlus’ sister that her wit was correct and well received, and that they would soon be free of this place.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jane visits the Kryiks, and Lizzie has to go and rescue her. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated and welcomed. <3

There was something distinctly old-fashioned about the way Mr. Shepard’s property and inheritance would be divided among his daughters: to whit, that it would not. It was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation, a fact that Lizzie could not abide, and frequently brought up. 

“Your great-aunt gave us the money to leave Earth when your mother and I were newly married. She was an old-fashioned woman and we had no idea we’d be blessed with so many daughters,” Mr. Shepard explained time and time again, no longer bothering to suppress his sighs. Having resolved that she would take Nihlus’ offer into serious consideration and perhaps become the first human Spectre, Lizzie had to prepare to leave her home once again. If she should die, she wanted to make sure that Jane would be looked out for. Silly, really, to worry so much about the eldest, but Jane deserved every happiness in the world, and one way or another Lizzie would provide it. 

There were other, more immediate concerns that were clamoring for attention in Lizzie’s mind. In an obvious echo of Nihlus’ earlier words, soldiers had been appearing within the main town of their little world, trying to look inconspicuous and utterly failing. Avoiding them lest she run into someone she knew, Lizzie contented herself with being at home as much as she could, but her sisters were a different story. 

Kitty (real name Catherine) and Lydia had no interest in joining the Alliance themselves, but they had plenty of interest in Alliance men. They normally had to content themselves with simply looking online, watching serial dramas despondently clicking through dating sites, but they were furnished with the freshest, best gossip now, spending hours each morning primping before walking to town, heads held high. They came back home at lunch, chatter filling the home like birdsong so that Lizzie couldn’t concentrate on everything she was trying to do, putting together paperwork and most definitely not thinking about Mr. Vakarian. 

Mr. Shepard was prepared to silence his younger two daughters with a cutting remark. ““From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.” It was enough to make silence fall over the dinner table for a long few seconds before Kitty burst into uncontrollable laughter, and even Lizzie felt her brow unfurrow. She would miss this and regrets clouded her mind. No, she would be the first human Spectre. She had to be. 

Silence descended as everyone ate, only the occasional giggles of Lydia and Kitty disturbing it. They had secrets still to tell, but they would save it, savoring the details. The clink of forks on plates was interrupted by a loud ding, the noise of a message arriving on Jane’s tablet. The eldest Shepard had the good grace to blush, at least, embarrassed and unwilling to look at the offending piece of technology. Lydia, however, had no such moral compunctions, stealing it and reading it out loud with a kind of savage glee. 

“It’s from Miss Kryik! It reads-   
‘If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Faleria and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever,  
“Caprenia Kryik.’” 

Blushing to the tips of her blonde hair, Jane looked down at her plate, pushing food around. 

“You’re no fun at all.” Giving the tablet back to Jane, Kitty leaned forward, asking, “are you going to say yes?” 

Before Jane could even answer, Mrs. Shepard had butted in. “Oh, take your bicycle! It’s supposed to rain, and surely they won’t be so cruel as to send you back out in the wet.” 

“I’d much rather take a skycar.” It was the first sentence Jane could get in edgewise, but Mrs. Shepard shook her head. 

“You know that’s not in the budget my dear.” And so it was decided. Jane would go dine with the Kryik sisters and hope they had food that would suit the human palate, and she would ride her bicycle to get there. It was a scheme Lizzie could only shake her head at; surely it would fail, and she would see a soggy Jane returning late at night, looking as beautiful as ever.

***

““MY DEAREST LIZZIE,—  
“I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Dr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc.” 

That was the message whose urgent beeping woke Lizzie, causing her to curse and stumble out of bed, pulling on the first clothes she could find. It was utterly idiotic, and she should send a cab to pick up her sister right at that moment. Her funds were low, but surely becoming a Spectre meant she would get a raise that would help smooth out any further financial difficulties. Only her need to talk to Nihlus propelled her forward, into a cold and muddy world. She had to tell him that she accepted his offer in person; everything digital felt too cold to cover for the excitement she was desperately trying to hide. Besides, the walk was only a few miles, and the conditioning would do her good.   
Thus did Lizzie Shepard set out, mud and detritus from last night’s storm coating her body liberally, turning her black boots brown and putting unmentionable stains all over her trousers. Her hair soon escaped its bun, individual flyaway strands in vivid red while her cheeks burned pink from the exertion. She was the picture of health, though the sweat was not a most favorable portrait, and did little to lend her the gravitas the situation seemed to merit. It was only the Kryiks, however, and she had to rescue Jane. That was all. 

Then why did she feel the strangest butterflies in her stomach as she knocked on the door? It could have been the sheer size of their house, a mansion in comparison to her own, and indeed to most on the planet. More likely it was because the men might be around, a fact that hardly bore thinking about. Jane. Spectre. These were the important things in life. 

A firm knock was enough to get her back on her bearings. It echoed through the house; would they have servants? A silly notion, but one that struck her and left Lizzie worrying afresh, so much so that when the door opened and it was revealed who stood there, she stood there gape mouthed while he took her in with laconic amusement and what seemed to be a faint sense of shock at her condition. 

“Ah, Mr. Vakarian. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“Nor I you. Do come in, Miss Shepard.” And with that, Garrus beckoned her into the Kryik home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie has dinner with the Kryiks and Mr. Vakarian and discovers he has better taste than she first thought. She also makes a decision regarding Nihlus' offer.

Dinner with the Kryiks was evidently a regimented affair, not so different from Lizzie Shepard’s time in the Alliance. It happened at precisely half-past six, unlike the chaotic affairs at home, and everything was laid out just so. The real difference was that no one cursed or made lewd jokes; she felt her spine stiffen in the presence of such illustrious company, already attempting not to say anything too cutting back. Not with Jane here, staring at Mr. Kryik with such obvious admiration, his two sisters watching her back in turn, and certainly not with Mr. Vakarian as Lizzie’s main conversation partner. Her only consolation was the worry Mr. Kryik showed for Jane, his mandibles almost seeming to quiver with it. 

That, if nothing else, was what pushed Lizzie over the edge. When this was all over with, she would tell Mr. Kryik that she would join his Spectres. First, however, she had to go tend to Jane, still spending a majority of her time in bed, leaving a room full of turians watching her back. 

The minute Lizzie had left, Caprenia spoke. The elder Miss Kryik drawled her words, doing her utmost to sound amused. “She has nothing to recommend her but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance earlier. She looked almost wild.” 

Faleria, the younger of the two, was quick to join in. “She did indeed. Very nonsensical to come at all! We can take proper care of Jane.” 

“I thought Miss Lizzie looked remarkably well this morning. Very hale,” Nihlus put mildly, his stare pinning down both of the women until they squirmed uncomfortably. 

It was time for a third party to intervene. “You observed it Mr. Vakarian, I’m sure, and I’m inclined to think that you wouldn’t want your sister making such an exhibition.” Caprenia would have batted her eyelashes, if turians had any. 

“Certainly not. And it doesn’t matter what I want for Solana. She does as she pleases. As for Miss Shepard, I thought it managed to brighten up her eyes and cheeks considerably. She is clearly used to outdoor life from her time as a soldier.” Of that, he said little else and conversation drifted back to the Shepards poor prospects, leaving the men mostly silent. 

Later that evening saw the entire party, minus Jane, in Mr. Kryik’s library. It was well-appointed, though most of the books were dry pieces of nonfiction, and loath as she was to admit it, Lizzie relished a good romance. 

As her fingers trailed down their spines, she overheard Mr. Vakarian discussing the merits of women with the sisters again. “A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, gunplay, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.” 

“I wonder if you know any accomplished women whatsoever, Mr. Vakarian,” said Lizzie, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer. “If you will excuse me, I must attend to Jane.” 

Jane looked little improved, though when Mr. Kryik entered the room, she perked up considerably. Lizzie looked out a window to take in the broad lawn and mature trees, another luxury on a colony planet, eyes politely missing when turian and human fingers intertwined. Nihlus was, if nothing else, considerate, making sure Jane was comfortable, bringing her water and talking to her in a low voice. This, piled with everything else, made Lizzie firm in her decision-making. 

When Nihlus had finished his ministrations, Lizzie tapped him on the shoulder gently. “If we could speak for a moment in privacy. It’s about something you mentioned to me earlier. Not about Jane,” she was quick to clarify. He obliged, his face impossible to read, though that was true of all turians. A damnable quirk of those, even though she was slowly warming up to them. 

“Does your offer of Spectre status still stand?” 

Much to her relief. Nihlus’ stiff posture relaxed, and he almost seemed to smile for a moment. “I would be happy to mentor you, Miss Shepard. To be the first human Spectre will be no light accomplishment, mind you, but the Council does think you’re the best candidate.” 

“May I ask what the work will start? And will Mr. Vakarian be involved?” The very prospect was enough to send a shiver down her spine. 

“Almost right away, Miss Shepard. We will, of course, be relying on you to remember your N7 training, but there’s something on this very planet worth examining. We’ll require the aid of your friend Ms. T’soni, of course, and-” 

“Dr. T’soni.” 

“Ah, yes. Of course. Mr. Vakarian need not be involved if you do not wish him to be. I will forward the details to you with haste. For now, shall we rejoin the others?” Nihlus extended his arm, and though he still seemed cold and strange to her, Lizzie accepted it, descending the staircase to join the small party. 

Caprenia held a volume of which Mr. Vakarian was evidently fond, going on at length about its merits. Unfortunately, it was clear she hadn’t read it at all, relying only on reviews from the net, and Lizzie had to do her best to stifle a smile. It was a good volume, the second in the series, and she was surprised at his good taste, though she tried not to let it affect her opinion of him unduly. That he looked almost bored by Caprenia’s attentions was another step to almost making him likable, but all this she shoved aside.

Lizzie Shepard was about to be instated as the first human Spectre, and she had never felt such joy and such anticipation.


End file.
